After declining the Irish breakfast, which I think really disappointed the bed and breakfast lady, we headed into Ennis to discover our ATM cards worked over here. This could be trouble. We stopped in at a Belleek and Waterford shop and wound up buying lots of crystal, a sweater, and a really cool Guinness windbreaker Tamara got (I should have gotten one for me). Anyway, we spent way too much money, then went on the road to Tralee.

For those of you interested in our driving route, here it is. We took the R473 down the north side of the Shannon River -- any other nation would call this a bay -- to the car ferry at Killimer. 10 Irish Punts later, we were on the south shore at Talbert. We attempted to find the Glin Castle, but found a small ivy-covered ruin with no place to park near it. The Glin gift shop was larger than this "castle". From there, we had lunch at a restaurant/hotel themed after James Paul Jones. Don't ask.

On the way to Glin, we encountered something that's become a running joke. On the pavement, the word SLOW is painted, followed a few car lengths later by another SLOW, then a SLOW THROUGH VILLAGE. Around the bend, just the single word: SLOWER.

Driving through Listowel, we were stuck behind a truck right at this really neat 18th century church. Like most buildings in Ireland, this was a ruin. We dashed down to Tralee and drove around and around. It is a large town for Ireland. It reminded me of Heidelberg, Germany.

It was easy to find a bed and breakfast here. Oddly enough, this was one of the things I was worried about when we made our trip plans. It turns out that Ireland's buildings break down as follows: 50% ruins, 25% bed and breakfasts, 45% pubs, 5% other.

Here in Tralee, we purchased more sweaters and a cheap windbreaker that it turns out was ruined because of stitching in the sleeve. We thought the weather here was much more warmer than it really is here. We wound up leaving our jackets and long-sleeve shirts back in the States. So, we've been looking around every so often for cool weather gear.

Dinner was unremarkable and inedible. I'm still not certain if we are supposed to tip when we go out dining, so I'm glad I didn't tip the waitress at this place. Oh, when Tamara ordered her "Roast Leg of Kerry Lamb", she said she wanted the "Leg of Kerry". I jokingly suggested that the waitress just scoop up some dirt and serve that. Looking back on the meal, I think she took my advice to heart.

Our Irish hosts seem confused and disarmed whenever I refuse a cup of coffee just before bed. They then try to ply me with various means of introducing caffeine to my system before retiring for the night. Tea, chocolate, a direct injection of 30mg of the stuff. Things like that. "Just water, please."

Silly town names: Kiladysart, Knock, Killimer. Ireland is full of Killin' towns.

-FP